“Why, how hot and flustered you do look, my dear!” said little Miss Burge. “The girls is tiresome this morning. If that Feelier Potts don’t behave herself, she sha’n’t come up to the garden to tea.”
“You haven’t seen my garden, Miss Thorne,” said the ex-butcher.
“No.”
“Ah, you’ll have to come up and see my garden. My sister here will ask you to bring up some of the best girls to take them on the lawn, and eat cake.”
“But not a bit for that naughty Feelier Potts,” cried Miss Burge, shaking her parasol at the delinquent. “Look at that now, Bill. Well, of all the aggravating hussies.”
Hazel was already on in front, to where Miss Feelier had turned what her mother termed “stunt;” that is to say, she behaved as a horse does that has a character for jibbing—she was not allowed to go her own pace, so she began to walk as slowly as possible, and almost stopped.
It needs neither blackboard nor chalk to demonstrate the problem that follows:
A, B, and C, are divisions of a column of troops on the march. Portion A forms the advance guard; B the centre; C the rear. If A marched one mile per hour, B two miles per hour, and C three miles per hour, what would be the result?
Setting aside miles per hour. Hazel Thorne’s column behaved as above; and in two minutes, to Feelier Potts’ great delight of which, however, she did not display an inkling in her stolid face, the little column was all in confusion, while the young lady called out loudly:
“Please, teacher, they’re a-scrouging of us behind.”